


Repossessed

by Townycod13



Series: Repossessed Plus [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, psychic powers kyle, weird story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 05:36:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14710112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13
Summary: You know what's spookier than ghosts?Teenagers.





	Repossessed

Twenty-seven is too young to be having a post-life pow-wow with Satan.

Kyle knew that there were most definitely younger and purer who had experienced this particular course of events. Dead, hell, Satan, and oddly a warm cup of tea. He was sure but still, he was of the firm opinion that they were _also_ too young for this shit.

Satan was the sort of dude you wanted to hang out with in your eighties, after you’ve lived a pretty full life, accomplished whatever it is you’d hoped to with your own feeble hands, and you had stories of a lifetime to share with the kindly red giant.

Satan wasn’t a bad guy, not so far as Kyle had known him, his son was a bit of a asshole, but no one could help who they were related to.

It was too young to have this conversation but considering the state of things, it was inevitable.

“I’m not really sure what you want me to do about this, I thought you _wanted_ the apocalypse.”

Satan sighed into his tea, stirring in another sugar lump in discontent, “Not like _this_ . See,” his eyes locked on Kyle’s, a pleading maroon framed in gold, “The trouble is that it’s not the _right_ apocalypse.”

“Not your apocalypse.” Kyle surmised, testing the warmth of his own cup. Something about the fiery abyss of hell made it hard for tea to cool at a decent rate.

“Yeah!” Satan enthused, “This whole void thing that’s slowly tearing about reality, _all_ of reality mind you, including the afterlife, is really not cool!” he waved his hands in frustration, Kyle made sure to stay out of accidental thwacking distance, “In _my_ apocalypse people get dragged down to hell and then we have a really cool party! And then the boring Mormons hang out in heaven to be boring together.”

Kyle nodded, testing another sip. Better this time.

Satan gestured emphatically at a wall behind him, one that was slowly cracking under the reality crumbling pressure of the horror terrors that were eating away at the core of time and space, “ _That_ , that isn’t cool! Soon we’re all going to--to just _stop existing_!”

Kyle did agree that it wasn’t a prospect he was fond of but that still left his questions unanswered.

“So why don’t you, Canadian Satan, and god or whatever else put a stop to it?” he wondered if Moses would help out too, for enough macaroni pictures.

Satan slouched unhappily in his couch, squishing the delicately crochet daisies, “It’s not that simple.”

“They’re stronger than you?”

There was a sincere offense in Satan’s face, but not the sort Kyle hoped to see. He wanted to goad to get the lazy overlord of hell off of his ass and into action. It was the flush of embarrassed anger. The one that told Kyle that he should be a little more unnerved by the cracks appearing than he was.

“We’ve _tried_.” he poured an unhealthy amount of sugar lumps into his tea, “But we just can’t kill Kenny. Not for good, at least.”

Kyle paused, raised a hand, lowered it, took a long sip of tea, raised a finger, lowered it, ahnd then finally found words, “Kenny McCormick?”

Strangely felt unpleasant information click into place.

Satan’s despondent sigh brought him back to reality, “Yes. Kenny McCormick. He’s… something like the harbinger of this whole thing. As long as he exists, this will happen and reality will crumble. _But_ his relation to those _things_ make it impossible for death to keep.”

Kyle had a lifetime of memories of Kenny McCormick. He knew, previous to dying, that a good portion of these memories were omitted, “Huh… so you guys killed Kenny?” he paused again, “You guys are bastards.”

It was so weird. Maybe dying took away mental blocks? But now he could perfectly recall Kenny dying. A lot. Sometimes daily.

It was like remembering a dream vividly out of nowhere. A weird ‘oh yeah’ moment to have after all this time.

Kenny couldn’t die.

Holy shit.

Kyle dialed back into the conversation now that he understood that bit of information slotting into place, there were bigger problems, “Wait, what do you mean harbinger?”

Satan shrugged, “We still can’t figure out exactly how. If we did, maybe we could stop this, but the prophecy says that the only way to stop all of this is by killing Kenny. Or, ore accurately, deleting him from all of existence.”

Kyle felt a little sick at the thought. That wasn’t a pleasant thought. For a lot of reasons. Kyle tried to dial back his own emotions to find an answer to his initial question.

“Okay, I get that, even if it sounds ridiculous, but that still doesn’t explain what _I_ have to do with any of this.”

“We need you to kill Kenny.”

Kyle decided to take a page out of Stan’s book and pinched the bridge of his nose, “And how exactly should I do that if I’m dead and _you_ couldn’t?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Kyle was going to worry about that a lot, “You’re the only one that can though.”

“What about Cartman?” he assumed whatever plan they were hatching required someone that knew McCormick, that was the only explanation that made sense, but why not someone more bloodthirsty and proficient like Cartman?

Satan looked just _sad_ at the suggestion, “Even if that _would_ work, I wouldn’t want to work with that psycho. He gives me the creeps.”

As vindicating as that information was to hear, Kyle still didn’t see the problem, “Why me particularly? Why not Stan or Butters or literally _anyone_ else?”

“You have a gift that we need.”

Oh god.

Not this.

Kyle was very much tempted to put down his tea, ignore the fracturing reality in the corner and making the most of whatever time he had left in this literal hell-hole.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he replied stiffly.

Satan pressed on, rudely paying the denial no mind, “Look, the plan that me and Jesus put together requires someone with gifts like yours. Without that, your mind is sure to fracture. Do you remember when Cartman ate Kenny’s ashes and got possessed?”

Oh kurwa, he did.

How was that a thing that happened that he forgot completely about it?

“Yeah?”

“Well, the pressure of having two souls in one body fractured the kids personality permanently. And that was only with trace elements of another person in him.”

Kyle’s mind caught up to how this might apply to himself, “Wait, what do you mean two souls in one body--”

“Point being, we need someone that can maintain sanity under those extreme circumstances and since you are _gifted_ \--”

“--am not.”

“--and have a functional memory of a great deal of the deaths that _haven’t_ worked, you’re the only one we can send.”

“Send _where_?!” Kyle was starting to get this sinking sensation that he wasn’t going to have a say in this at all.

Satan smiled smugly, as though he’d been waiting the entire conversation to be able to use this nugget of wit, “You mean _when_.”

Oh motherfucker--

\--

The whole thing had amounted to Jesus, Moses, Satan, and of all people his own deceased mother sitting with tea and explaining why there was no other way.

Kyle sincerely doubted that. He’d had enough experience with each of those assholes to know that it often wasn’t the _last_ resort or even the _best_ resort, but rather the course of action that appealed to them the most that was going to get pushed forth.

What assholes.

The first thing that made any sense when he woke up was the color of his ceiling.

It was the ceiling of his childhood home and he knew it probably better than his own hands.

Then there was the discomforting squirming within him and he was made to understand that this was going to be far more tasking than it had any right being. He could feel _himself_ , younger, terrified, wondering with panic why his body wouldn’t move.

Kyle sighed. _It won’t move because I haven’t moved it yet_.

The panic only grew within him and Kyle mentally despaired. Great. His younger bodymate could hear his thoughts.

Their thoughts?

His own thoughts?

Fuck, this was confusing.

He removed the blankets covering him and tried to guess at how far he’d been sent back while getting out of bed. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the idea of being sent back to his early childhood or to his teens. Both sounded like terrible times to attempt murder on an immortal.

 _Murder_?! His literal inner child cried, Kyle wondered if it was even worth explaining to himself. He barely understood it.

He decided on something simple, _How old am I_?

 _How the shit should I know_?! The inner child screamed.

Kyle shook his head, yep, this wouldn’t go well. Judging from his room he could guess middle-school though.

He signed. That gave him just over a decade to figure out how to pull off the impossible before all of reality was destroyed because Kenny’s apparently a giant reality destroying asshole.

His panicked younger self had lapsed into a contemplative silence and Kyle wondered exactly how much of his own contemplations traveled between the two of them. It would really suck if it was everything, Kyle practically lived in his own head when he wasn’t bursting out with information.

“Kyle, bubbie! Come down for breakfast! You’ll be late for school!”

Kyle kind of hated Satan. Sending him back in time to a school day was a shit move.

“Coming!” he called back

_Don’t you dare hurt my family!_

There should be a daily limit on sighs. They really started to tire a person out after awhile. He grumbled to himself, “Why would I hurt them? They’re my family too, dingus.”

Ike screamed at the sight of him.

Screamed and ran away.

That was not how Kyle wanted to start his morning.

“What’s gotten into him?” his mother looked alarmed, hand over her chest, and enough shock to quell anger.

It was easier to read her now. He wished he’d known how to see the crinkles of concern in her face when he’d actually been this age.

Well, he kinda did? Kyle sighed, again, too many times, this wasn’t the time to wonder how he could change his life.

He had to kill Kenny.

_WHAT._

Right. His inner self.

He wanted to drown himself in his cereal but instead he ate it and left for school, ignoring all the indignant cries his childhood self was throwing his way.

Right.

Middle school.

That was not a great time to be Kyle Broflovski. Specifically a terrible time to be Kyle Broflovski thinking about Kenny McCormick.

Speaking of the blond spawn of evil abyss gods that was destined to bring an end to all of reality as we know it, Kenny was standing at the bus stop like nothing in the world was wrong.

Kyle felt nauseous at the sight.

It was much easier to think about killing a lifetime long friend when Satan was giving you a pep talk and you were reminiscing about ‘oh god, why did I ever like that band?’ than it was staring at the boy.

Just an orange blob hidden in a hood, rocking on his heels and absorbed in his now extremely old and battered PSP.

He felt his heart skip a beat and he knew it was his younger selves extremely ill-thought out crush causing it.

His own emotions were smothered in grim acknowledgement that there really wasn’t any other way.

Kenny McCormick must die.

“Hey Kenny.” he greeted, developing a headache due to the enraged pounding occuring at a very metaphorical level within him.

Kenny looked up, letting himself die in game to smile a greeting, “G’morning, dude.”

Oh god, he had to kill Kenny.

What could he do that hadn’t already been done?! Kenny had died in so many creative and gruesome ways already--his heart throbbed uncomfortably, this time the pain of it all his, Kenny was so _young_.

He wasn’t the twenty-seven year old with a steady job and an easy smile who could be relied upon for most anything.

He was somewhere in his early teens and so _small_ and had died a great many times already.

It was a horrifying thought.

Kyle’s body acted before he could stop it and it was probably partially due to his younger selves influence. He took note of that, if he and his younger self had the urge to act on the same thing at the same time, it could prove problematic to stop the confused body from acting on it.

Kenny gasped in confusion as Kyle’s arms wrapped around him.

“Kyle?”

So soft and confused. He didn’t deserve to die. He didn’t deserve any of this.

Kyle’s grip solidified into a desperate plea.

His throat felt dry with emotion.

Kenny had to die.

Kenny hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Dude. Gay.”

Ah, Stan, always dependable at ruining moments. Kyle rolled his eyes and released the confused boy. He loved his best friend but the dude had a life-time of accidentally cockblocking Kyle that he was going to live up to.

“I don’t want to hear that from _you_.” Kyle snapped back without thinking and then thought better of it.

It was too late, damage done. Stan looked mortified, frozen with a look of slight fear on his face.

Right. Stan didn’t come out until late high school. Kyle had known prior to that but to his knowledge no one knew in middle-school.

Except a very confused Stan Marsh.

Goddamnit.

“I--don't’ know what you’re talking about!” Stan winced at his own words, he knew how it sounded.

Shit. This was a terrible way to start his day.

 _Wait, Stan’s gay?_ His inner child puzzled. Kyle wished he could block the guy out.

Kenny acted quickly. It was seamless. Kyle hated that a middle-schooler just outdid him in social warfare. He had over a decade on these brats, he shouldn't be falling behind.

Without an hesitation, Kenny gave Kyle a huge smooch just to the side of the mouth before turning to Stan and doing the same. Without pause, he wrapped his arms around both their shoulders with a huge shit-eating grin.

“Face it guys, everyone’s gay for me.” he grinned devilishly, “It’s a curse, I know, but my heart is big enough for you all. No need to fight.”

The only good part of this was it had completely stunned Kyle’s counterpart into blissful silence. It had also distracted Stan from his terrified denial, wiping his cheek with mock disdain, “Sick, dude.”

Kenny just laughed.

Kyle wondered how many times he’d been dragged into Kenny’s pace like this unknowingly. The conversation was distracted and safely averted. If Kyle was ‘living in the moment’ as it were, he would have chalked it all up to Kenny being a ham.

But it was on purpose. Kyle could tell. There was an unnerved corner in the child’s face that he knew how to read.

An embarrassed powder of pink on his cheeks too.

Dammit, Kenny was a good guy. He didn’t deserve to die.

 _Then don’t kill him_! He protested against himself.

 _Look, kid, it’s not that simple_.

 _Make it that simple_.

There was such command in that thought. Oh, gods, was he ever this indignant? The bus finally came to spare him more berating for a pre-teen twit with no idea that all of reality was literally hanging in the balance of this going well.

\--

He was playing hooky.

Kyle sighed.

He wouldn’t tell himself which classes he was supposed to go to. He wouldn’t tell himself his old locker combo either.

Kyle wished he could remember it but it was so ridiculously long ago now. He couldn’t even remember his goddamn high school combo. How the fuck was he supposed to remember this one?!

He couldn’t get to his books. He didn’t know which classes he had. So he was playing hooky in the gym because there wasn’t currently a class being held there.

 _You’re ruining my perfect attendance_!

Kyle groaned, “Then just tell me where to go, idiot.”

_Tell me why you wanna kill Kenny first!_

This was getting nowhere, “I already told you. Twice.”

Kyle didn’t fancy talking to himself. But he found _thinking really hard_ at his body-mate to be something of a headache. Parts he didn’t want to get across often did and parts that he was trying to express were lost in translation. It was just easier.

_That was a bullshit explanation! And I don’t believe for one second that you’re me from the future either!_

“Technically, I’m dead you from the future,” Kyle shrugged, “Got my innards ripped out by some otherworldly horror terror of the abyss.”

 _You’re insane_!

“And you’re twelve.”

 _Thirteen_ ! His inner self prickled and Kyle grinned. Now he was getting somewhere. He knew all of his own buttons. He could push them just right to get answers. _Goddamnit!_ The child swore.

Ah, he really needed to find a way to block his plotting from pouring over.

“Look, this would be a lot easier if you would just stop fighting me every inch of the way.” the headache was kinda killing him. Made it really hard to figure out murder.

_Why the hell would I want to make it easy for you to kill Kenny?!_

Kyle shrugged, “Will to live? Stopping the end of all life and death as we know it?”

_I’d rather die than betray my friend like that!_

“Say that after you’ve already died once,” he grumbled, “Besides, it’s not like we haven’t killed him before.”

On accident, usually, but Kyle could recall more than one time he’d been responsible for Kenny’s untimely deaths. It was uncomfortable and lurching knowledge. He wondered how Kenny stayed friends with him.

Though he supposed it would be hard to name a person that hadn’t killed Kenny at some point or another.

_I’ve never killed Kenny! Why do you keep saying shit like that?!_

“Oh quit it, you’re only uppity because your dumb crush is unrequited.”

That was not a smart thing to say, Kyle realized this, especially with his rather intimate knowledge of exactly how disastrous the crush had been. The emotional rollercoaster that had left him bereft and broken inside for months and still ached painfully to remember.

Stupid Kenny.

Stupid himself.

Goddamnit, he shouldn’t have said that.

It was too late though, his internal monologue now something in between incoherent screams (that sounded disturbingly similar to his mothers), desperate denials, and an uncomfortable chime of heartbreak.

Ah, so on some level his younger self did believe. If an older him knew for a fact the emotions were unrequited, that could only mean that they were as a matter of fact, just that.

Well, it was better to rip that bandaid off now. Tough shit, middle school Kyle, it was better now that later.

“Look, Kenny doesn’t like you like that. He’s a good friend and you guys have a good friendship. Accept it and move on.”

This was terrible timing for someone to sneak up behind him.

Kyle jumped out of his skin, dropping the phone he’d been using as a cover for his dark muttering.

Kenny’s hand was on his shoulder with a puzzled smile, “Wait, who likes me like what?”

It was the first time today that Kyle kind of wanted to fulfil his mission. If only to avoid answering that question. He picked up his phone hurriedly, miming hanging it up, “No one.”

Smooth. How was it that Kyle still sucked at middle school?

 _I hate you_.

 _Feelings mutual_ , he shot back at the twerp.

Kenny’s face was an adorably puzzled mask, but he was putting on the smarm like an expert, “Wait, does someone have a crush on me?!” he beamed, “Dude, _who_?!”

Kyle hated the part of his heart that sank, even if his preteen self couldn’t really be blamed. “Can’t tell you.”

“ _Dude_ , bros before hoes! Come _on_ .” Kenny looked all too excited at the prospect of being liked, “Is it Bebe?” he paused, “Wait, wait, Nelly was almost nice to me last week, _could it be_?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, “And do I talk to either of those girls?”

Kenny paused, “Huh… oh yeah. Wait, you don’t really talk to many girls at all.” his thoughts spun further, “ _Oh_ , is it a dude?! Token?! _Please_ tell me it’s Token, dude is _hot_. Wait, I’ve changed my mind, Clyde is cuter.”

Kyle sighed, on one side he had an overly excited middle-schooler contemplating the possibilities of being crushed on and on the other he had an overly emotional middle schooler heartbroken over the first.

He would give anything to just go back to work. His students were obnoxious at times but at least university kids had some concept of keeping him out of it. They weren’t so needlessly dramatic.

Okay, and it didn’t help that he had to murder the shit out of one of these kids.

Goddamnit.

“I’m not telling.” Kyle rolled his eyes.

“Okay, but why would you discourage them from telling me?” Kenny pouted, “Let me decide if I like them or not!”

“Believe me. You don’t.”

Kyle couldn’t believe he was going to relive this shit while playing hooky in his younger selves body. Life fucking sucked sometimes.

Kenny knit his brow, apparently trying to think of a person that he wouldn’t at least give a shot to, Kyle wanted to explain that was part of the problem. Instead he waited.

“Cartman?” Kenny tried weakly, less enthused.

“I’ll spare you that nightmare at least. No, to my knowledge Cartman has no romantic interest in you.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“I wouldn’t thank god if I were you, dudes out to kill you.”

It slipped out thoughtlessly. Kyle was starting to understand what Satan had meant by the mind splitting in these circumstances. It was taking a great deal of his focus and concentration to keep himself anchored.

Not so much anchored in himself. Just anchored. The human mind wasn’t meant to jump time and space like this. It wasn’t meant to inhabit more than one body at once. It was a crushing pressure on the mind that demanded retribution. To break the thoughts up into manageable chunks. The soul as well.

He had to put all his focus into keeping his soul, both of his souls, from splintering at the seams.

Basically, the current side effects were that his already strained brain to mouth filter was experiencing technical difficulties.

Kenny jovial mood took a short vacation at Kyle’s words, taking them in almost too solemnly, before arriving home with a delightful amount of souvenirs and a carefree laugh. “ _Dude_ , I couldn’t have put it better myself!” he laughed harder, “Didn’t know you were one for morbid humor.”

Kyle’s smile was strained. He wasn’t. Not really. But a joke was better than explaining to Kenny that reality needed him to die.

_“It’s not pretty cool, Kyle--”_

Kyle’s mouth froze as the memory of the words came unbidden.

_“It fucking hurts.”_

Oh shit.

_“Remember this time--try and fucking remember!”_

Kenny was still giggling his fool heart away.

A gunshot resounded in Kyle’s own mind and he’d had enough.

He ran away.

He had a decade to kill Kenny.

He was going home today.

Sure, he didn’t want to spend even a second longer reliving his teen years than he absolutely had to but fuck it.

He couldn’t do this today.

\--

Looking at the ceiling he tried to calm for sleep.

He couldn’t.

He hummed lightly to himself, “Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel…”

He sighed.

Familiar music usually helped him regain his composure, calm his nerves, a return to childhood.

It would have probably been more effective if he wasn’t in actuality experiencing a return to childhood.

\--

Kenny wasn’t at the bus stop the next morning.

He wasn’t in the classroom and he wasn’t on school property.

Kyle panicked, momentarily, memories fresh and a slight tremor of fear in his step.

Younger Kyle was uncharacteristically compliant today and Kyle was starting to get scared that even with his-- _groan_ \--gift he wouldn’t be able to stop his personality from splintering due to this experience.

He supposed his own life was probably a small price to pay for all of reality. He wasn’t really sure he wanted to live after being made responsible for Kenny’s murder.

He wasn’t sure of a lot of things.

He reminded himself that Ike had been eaten alive.

And Stan had exploded.

He reminded himself that there really wasn’t another way.

It didn’t help much.

“Hey, Stan,” he tried on the way home, hoping for the best and fearing the worst, “Any idea where Kenny’s at?”

Stan shrugged, “I dunno, dude disappears all the time. Probably getting high?”

Kyle tried not to snap at that. It had been a prevalent rumor up until graduation. Even he’d believed it a little. Kenny disappeared so often because he was off getting high or being a sex addict or drunk or something generic of white trash.

It wasn’t that he got run over by the school bus in front of everyone and dragged down to hell for a week. Kyle felt sick. It didn’t help that Kenny didn’t really do much to dispute the rumors.

He would remember if Kenny died though. He could do that now. Kyle frowned. If Kenny wasn’t at school and he wasn’t dead, where the hell was he?

“Dude, did you study for tomorrow's test? I’m going to bomb--”

Oh great. And academia was _also_ a thing to stress over. Is this what bursting with stress really meant? Because had thought he had a good grasp of exaggeration previously but there was something to do with literally feeling like his body, soul, and mind might explode at the seams due to the duress that made it a bit less of an exaggeration.

It didn’t help that the twenty-seven year old law professor really had no functional use for algebra in his day to day life so the information naturally decayed to the extent that he was quite confident he was going to completely fail the course.

_You’re going to what?!_

And then there’s _this_ asshole.

“Could you all just shut up?!”

Among Kyle’s decisions for the day, yelling a nonsensical command at Stan on the bus was not listed as a great one. The _coo-coo_ sound effect he was sure had come from Clyde didn’t help things.

Because now the entire bus was silent and staring.

How was he actually _worse_ at middle school as a full ass grown adult?

_Great. Now you’re ruining my life. You might actually be the worst person I’ve ever met._

Kyle took a calming breath.

It didn’t have the desired effect.

What would Brian Boitano do?

He took a second one and applied his brain to the situation. Honesty. He could use honesty. And lots of anger.

He glared at his fellow commuters, daring them to fight him, “I have a headache. You assholes should--” it came to him, a moment of brilliance in an otherwise panicked mind, he mimicked the voice as well as he could, hoping against hope, “ _Sit down and shut up_!”

Dawning hit Stan’s eyes, the impression was terrible but they’d heard the command so many times through their childhood it would be impossible to to recall the catchphrase of their childhood bus driver.

It had the desired effect. Those that realized were having a chuckle and those that didn’t were busy asking for clarification.

It was a stupid redirection and it shouldn’t have been effective. Kyle was sure a few students still thought he was a freak but at least they weren’t paying attention to him at this exact moment.

He held a confident posture too. That always helped. Something he’d learned as a teacher was there was a shocking amount of crap you could get away with if you looked confident enough about it.

_You’ve done it. You’ve completely ruined my life. I hate you. I hate you so much. I hate you more than Cartman._

_Hash words, twerp_. Kyle sighed and leaned against the window, watching the familiar scenery pass by rather than acknowledge Stan’s questioning gaze.

There’s the grocery store, a gas station, some homes splashed about, a mechanic--

Hold the phone.

_Kenny?!_

_Oh, quiet you_.

Kyle might be developing a form of self-loathing. It was strictly to do with bitchy childhood versions of himself that gave him headaches.

Kyle couldn’t help but keep his eyes trained on the boy even as the growing distance forced him to crane his neck.

It was definitely Kenny. Working on a car at some random autoshop like it was the most normal thing in the world.

What the actual shit.

Kyle got off the bus at the next stop, mindless of the distance between his own home and offering Stan the slightest of explanations that was half ‘errands’ and half ‘mind your own business’.

He made a mental note to make it up to Stan later. If for no other reason than his younger self did not take well to people treating his super best friend so flippantly.

The walk to the auto-shop wasn’t that long but he still felt anxiety bubble in his gut with the curiosity.

“I have a little dreidel…” he sang slightly to himself, making sure that no one was around to hear, “I made it out of clay.”

 _And when it’s dry and ready, with dreidel I shall play_.

He didn’t think the get even realized he’d finished the verse for him. It just came as a second nature. Feel nervous, sing just a bit, feel a bit calmer.

It was dumb but he felt a conradory with his childhood self that up until this point he’d felt a distinct lack of.

Kenny was still there when he reached the auto-shop. Orange parka wrapped around his waist and covered in sweat and smudges for his efforts.

 _Damnit, he’s hot_.

Kyle rolled his eyes at himself and began his approach, watching somewhat puzzled as an older man with a beard bossed Kenny about.

He was an employee.

It was a startling realization.

“Is this where you were instead of school?”

Kenny jumped out of his skin and whirled around, “Kyle?!”

He waved weakly. How strange.

He’d been so scared that Kenny was dead today but he didn’t feel at all relieved to see him alive and well.

_I didn’t know he worked here…_

His childish thoughts caught his own melancholy perfectly. Sure, he hadn’t known Kenny was an immortal, how could he? No one had. It was literally a causality splitting impossibility for him to know.

He could retain that he still knew pretty much everything there was to know about Kenneth McCormick. He could maintain that pride because it wouldn’t be far to hold the other stuff over his head.

But the sight of Kenny in oil stains shattered that pride to pieces.

“I didn’t know you were working.” Kyle’s eyebrows knit, “Wait, you’re not old enou--”

He got a rather nasty taste of oil for his troubles, Kenny’s hands hurriedly covering his mouth, “Shhhh!! Do you you want to screw me over?” Kenny hissed.

Ah, he was lying about his age.

Kyle nodded thoughtfully, trying to tongue away the fowl taste as Kenny backed away, “We can talk later dude, but I’m kinda at work and I _really_ need this job.”

“Later.” Kyle pressed. Kenny nodded, making shooing gestures while looking about for the reappearance of his boss from the back.

Kyle took the hint.

He was halfway to taking his out his phone to order a Lyft home when he realized that wasn’t really a thing he could do so easily anymore.

He was really going to miss the expendable income of a salary. He sighed. Long walk home it is.

A hand stopped him and he looked into a worried blue, “Hey, uh, I get off in like 30 minutes. Do you wanna just wait at McD’s? We can walk back together.”

His heart flip-flopped. Stupid Kenny had to be a nice person. Kyle smiled weakly, “Yeah, sure.”

The short walk to the fast food establishment was mercifully silent.

It was a whole different story upon arrival though.

_Why do you want to kill Kenny?_

Kyle pulled out his phone and mimed making a call, he could _feel_ the scorn his inner child had at the stupidity of it, “We talked about this. Are you ready to actually believe what I have to say?”

 _Prove it_. The child smarmed.

Damn brat.

“Alright. _Fine_. Ask me anything.”

There was a pause for contemplation, Kyle took the opportunity to order. He was probably going to kill himself with the sugary mostronsities on this stupid menu.

_Where did I hide the dead rat?_

“Trick question. There was no rat.”

Frustration that was not entirely his own welled within, _This isn’t fair! You can read my mind!_

Not really, Kyle realized a tad startled. His younger self seemed to have more time for private thought than he did. Was it because he was focusing so hard on keeping them seperate? Or was his younger self just more adept at withholding information?

“Then how else would you suggest I prove myself?”

He was met with a sullen silence. He decided to get the horrible salad and ordered.

 _I don’t know. But I don’t trust you and--_ he stopped himself, how did a person stop a thought?

“You don’t want it to be true.”

Kyle could relate. He didn’t want it to be true either. Somewhere the back of his mind, not occupied by horrible little teenagers, was still clawing for a way out of this. There _had_ to be another answer. But he’d seen the sky open and he’d seen the world warp.

He wondered what happened to Kenny. He hadn’t been near the other man. Supposedly he was the harbinger. Does that mean Kenny had joined in the destruction? Or had he died in that moment? What exactly about Kenny even brought about the end of all things?

He didn’t have enough answers and it was a struggle to trust his conspirators. He’d never known them to be particularly reliable.

“Look, kid, how about this. If I find a way to stop the end of all things another way, I’ll do that instead. In the meantime, we don’t have much of a choice.”

_Why don’t you just talk to Kenny about it? Maybe he knows something._

It was a desperate request. Kyle wanted the lifetime he’d sighed away back. “Yeah, because I’m sure he’ll believe me as much as you do.”

_I don’t believe you’re me._

“Well, obviousl--”

 _You don’t love him_.

Kyle’s mouth caught in his throat. When the fuck had he ever been this blunt--he rethought that--why the fuck had he ever thought being so blunt would benefit him?

“That’s… different.”

 _If you were me, you’d love him_.

 _Kids_ , always so determined that feelings are forever. Nothing is forever. Not really.

“Look, I do love him. As a friend. The same I love Stan. We have a good friendship. I wouldn’t choose Stan over all of reality as we know it either.”

 _You wouldn’t?!_ So shocked and appalled.

Kyle remembered the crunching sound as the creature gnawing at his little brother hit bone. His salad looked somehow even less appetising.

“I wouldn’t.” he reaffirmed.

Kenny didn’t deserve this but that didn’t change the facts. It was strange. Somehow trying to talk himself out of it was the first thing that almost talked him into it. Why was he such a contrary person?

_You can’t be me. I’m never going to become like you._

“Right. See, the trouble with that is if I don’t find a way to fix this, you’ll die and become just this. So if you don’t want to become me, help me out.”

A circular logic if he’d ever heard one.

_That’s stupid._

He agreed but didn’t verbalize it. It still got through and he hated how smug he could feel the boy being.

It was a good thing he was meeting up with Kenny.

It was about time he actually started trying to solve this stupid problem.

The sooner he solved this stupid conundrum, the sooner he could _not_ be in this situation. He didn’t care as much about where or when he went after this. He just wanted desperately not to be in middle school with pimples and his own voice in his head.

It was hellish enough the first time.

What could he do that hadn’t already been done to the boy? He’d sawed Kenny in _half_ one time for pete’s sake.

 _Stop thinking about killing Kenny_.

“Stop being an annoying brat.”

_You’re a dick._

“You’re a twerp. God, was I ever this young and stupid?”

The boy prickled in response. Kyle worried yet again for the kids wellbeing. Was he silent because he couldn’t come up with a comeback or because he was exhausted? It was hard to say.

“Hey, Broflovski!” speaking of the trouble to come, Kenny was waving on his way over, “Sorry about that, thanks for waiting up!”

Kyle nodded absently, pushing his thus far untouched salad to the newly seated boy. He really didn’t have an appetite. Kenny gave it a once over before shrugging and munching on the greens.

“Is this your way of telling me you think I should diet?” he teased.

Kyle rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself, “How else will I ensure you’re the prettiest girl at the ball?”

Kenny laughed openly, a glimmer of joy shining in his eyes.

Something inside Kyle glowered.

 _How can you talk to him so easily_ ? An accusation, jealousy. Ah, Kyle remembered. He’d barely been able to have one decent conversation with Kenny all throughout middle school without jamming his foot in a mouth, _You’re making him laugh before you try to kill him. That’s fucked up_.

“Excuse you, I’m _already_ the prettiest girl at any ball, thank you very much!”

It was Kyle’s turn to chuckle, “Okay, I can’t argue with that.”

Kenny paused in his boasting, cheeks coloring, and Kyle smiled fondly. It had been a long time since he’d been able to catch Kenny off guard like that. Somewhere in university he’d figured out the guy was good at complimenting himself and terrible at accepting the same from others. The Kenny he’d known, prior to the world ending, had somewhat grown accustomed to it.

This Kenny was still unable to comprehend other people viewed him in a positive light.

Kyle’s heart went out to the child. No kid should grow up with such a lack of love and care.

“Y-yeah,” Kenny scratched his head, pulling up his hood in an attempt to escape his own awkward emotions.

 _I hate you so much_.

“So,” Kyle began over his own thoughts, “What’s got you working at an autoshop?”

Kenny looked even further on edge, but seemed to unruffle his own feathers, “Uh, thought it looked cool. Ya know how much I like cars.”

He didn’t.

Shit. He was a terrible friend.

“Oh. You shouldn’t skip school for it though.” he chided half heartedly.

Kenny laughed, a brush off of a sound, “don’t worry about it” it said, “it’s none of your business” it continued.

Kyle tried to focus on the task at hand. He should find a way to kill Kenny. Painlessly, if possible.

“I was really surprised to see you though!” Kenny took a generous bite of the salad, it was mostly gone, Kyle felt he should have ordered something more substantial, “How’d you know I was there?”

“I, uh, say you from the bus.”

Kenny blinked owlishly, “And you just got off?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Kyle tried to understand the route of the question, he couldn’t, “I felt like it? I guess I was curious.”

Kenny tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a smile behind the plastic fork.

“Oh.” he replied, softly with that same not-so-secret smile.

He felt himself seethe. He also felt warm at the sight. It was unusual for Kenny to have such an unguarded smile.

Youth, he supposed, made everyone a little less practiced at concealing emotion.

His younger self, as per usual, was amidst a series of not-so-concealed jealous accusations.

“Is that weird?” Kyle asked, curious as to what exactly had Kenny so docile, “I mean, we’re friends, right”

“I mean, yeah,” Kenny affirmed, smile fading but still a look of warmth in his eyes, “But, I mean, it’s pretty unusual for anyone to be curious about me, ya know?”

He wasn’t wrong, Kyle realized. Even through his own inquisitive nature he’d always been so sure he understood everything about Kenny so he’d never felt a need to understand the boy further.

“They’re missing out.” Kyle assured.

Huh.

He didn’t expect Kenny to turn _that_ red.

How starved for affection _was_ this child?

_You--you’re a creep! You know you’re hitting on a child, right?! You’re a creep, I hope you go to hell you---!!_

Kyle barely held in a frustrated sigh and focused his thoughts.

_I’m not hitting on anyone. Fuck, I’m just telling my good friend Kenny he’s worth attention. What’s wrong with that?_

Kenny had another soft “Oh.” to offer the the conversation before he excused himself to the bathroom, hood doing nothing to conceal his fluster.

_Everything! You don’t just say shit like that to bro’s! That’s weird!_

Kyle rolled his eyes, _I say shit like that to Kenny all the time. He needs some positivity in his life._

The emotion within him was rolling off the other in _waves_ , Kyle couldn’t not feel it. It had no words, besides a vague mixture of ‘are you kidding me’ and ‘how is that not flirting’ and ‘did you _see_ Kenny’s face you blind oaf?!’. It was a distinct disappointed frustration in another beings inability to be an intellectual.

 _And you’re planning to kill him. Because that’s positive_.

Was this kid ever going to stop sassing him?

Kenny returned, more composed and some grease stains gone from his cheeks.

“You, uh, you never told me who you were talking to. Yesterday. About me.” Kenny shifted a bit and looked at him shyly and _oh my god_.

Kyle knew that look. It wasn’t a hard one to decipher. Children were not terribly adept at hiding emotions for the most part and it was only through the luck that other children sucked at reading them that the snotters got by.

Was this real?

Kyle didn’t feel happy.

This was the worst course of events.

It also brought to light that if he hadn’t been such an agonizingly awkward pre-teen he probably wouldn’t have gotten his heart broken so soundly. Which was frustrating.

But really.

He didn’t want Kenny to like him just because he was the first chump to figure out he was a sucker for compliments.

 _You’re a tool_.

Kyle agreed with himself.

“And I’m not going to tell you.” Kyle supplied, trying in vein to find a distraction from the current situation, “Uh, attorney-client privilege.”

That earned him a laugh even though it wasn’t all that funny.

“Playing lawyer?” there was a sparkle of something mischievous in Kenny’s face, “Is that what you’re planning to do when you grow up?”

Except he’d already grown up, given it a shot, and gone a completely separate path. Kenny would know that. His Kenny would know that.

He didn’t want some snot nosed brat who didn’t know love from infatuation looking at him like that.

He wanted _his_ Ke--

_So you do love him._

Kyle spent a full moment considering how feasible a psychic gag was. It was tempting. It ultimately a waste of energy, even if it worked, but _so_ tempting.

“Uh, maybe. I don’t know yet, to be honest.” Kyle lied. “What do you want to be?”

It was a low blow. Kyle didn’t know everything about Kenny but he did know how much the guy struggled with the prospect of having a future, prior to earning one through sheer grit.

Kenny’s face shadowed and his smile stiffened, “I dunno, maybe I’ll work with cars or something.” he laughed humorlessly.

Kyle had mercy, “That’d be pretty cool--”

_“--it’s not pretty cool Kyle--”_

Godamnit those fucking words were going to haunt him forever now that he'd remembered them.

“--I mean, that’s an option.” he amended, “Pretty sure you’d be good at most shit though.”

That brightened the conversation a little. Compliments were indeed the key to the young Kenny McCormick’s heart. How the hell hadn’t he figured this out as a kid?

_There you go again! What is your damage?! Can’t you see that--_

Oh. Right.

He’d been a total twit.

“Oh shit,” Kenny’s expletive grabbed his attention, “Sorry, dude, can we start heading back? I’ve got a shift at City Wok after this.”

Yet more information he hadn’t been privy prior to this exact moment in time. Kyle tried not to focus on it. Let his younger and dimmer self hyper focus on those details.

He focused on it anyway.

“I didn’t know you worked there too.”

Kenny grinned sheepishly, tugging at his sleeve to ease a nerve, “What can I say? I like to keep busy.”

There was more to that or Kyle was a monkey’s uncle. He didn’t press.

“Cool.” he said instead.

The walk was quiet, aside from his younger selves berating, and oddly comfortable. If he looked forward and spaced out he could almost pretend he was just walking next to Kenny and they were just having a stroll across town.

Kenny’s pattern of walking was still mostly the same. He’d never paid it mind before but it was a comfortable sound.

Maybe he’d imagined it all. There had been no end of the world, he didn’t have to kill Kenny, and the two of them were just taking a pleasant stroll

_And you know what?! I don’t think you have it in you! You talk all tough but you haven’t tried anything yet--you’re just a giant cowardly asshole, taking control of my body and--_

Maybe he should be grateful. The twit kept him focused.

Fingers grazed his own and he noticed that Kenny was gently swinging his arms while he walked, mindlessly letting knuckles tap Kyle’s own.

This was like the middle school version of second base. It was utterly ridiculous. Kyle didn’t move his hands, he told himself it was because the sensation had shut up the other preteens tirade.

He accepted numbly that he was just going to have a pounding headache for however long this farce went on. That was just a fact of his life now.

“You’re pretty cool, Broflovski.” Kenny said finally, affection coating his voice.

“I mean, I’d have to be to hang out with you.”

God. Damn. Brain. Mouth. Filter.

It was yet another smarm that he would have used easily with the other Kenny and it would mean exactly _nothing_ to either of them. Even _if_ Kyle meant it. Ultimately it _should_ have no meaning.

But there was Kenny’s pretty little gasp and angry twerp Kyle starting up again.

This was hell.

“Smooth as fuck, dude.” Kenny whistled finally.

“It’s a talent--” Oh, there’s the sound of Ike yelling again. Kyle looked up just in time to see Ike running away at top speed.

“...is there a reason your younger bro just ran away from you like you’re possessed or someshit?”

“Funny you should say that.” Kyle joked weakly, “I should probably see what the fuck that was about. Good luck on your shift, dude.”

Easy enough so far as goodbyes went. Except for the painfully youthful way that Kenny kept glancing back as he walked away. Kyle, to his chagrin, guilty of the same crime. Only to check if it was still happening.

 _We need to find out what’s wrong with Ike_.

Kyle sighed.

“I know exactly what’s wrong with Ike.”

He couldn’t feel the puzzlement.

“You do remember that he can see dead people, right?”

_So, wait, you really are--_

“Dead as a doornail.”

_So he--_

“See’s his older brother possessed by an older and somewhat mangled version of his brother, yes.”

 _That’s fucked up_.

“Yeah.” Kyle began the trek home, “No shit.”

\--

It was a tiresome night. By the time he’d made it home his mother had some choice words about staying out so late without notice and Ike vehemently refused to speak with him, remaining hidden in his room throughout dinner.

When was the last time he’d had a good rest? Kyle remained motionless on his bed, googling ‘how to kill an immortal’ on his phone while he listened to himself complain.

He had a very real sympathy for Stan now. Boy had been his constant confidant since childhood. Listening to a young Kyle Broflovski on a tirade was a torture he wouldn't wish upon anyone.

Thus far his search had recommended ‘beheading’ and he was pretty damn positive that had never stuck.

“Should I just start killing him and see what works?”

Kyle groaned.

Why the fuck had Satan given him this shitty task? How the hell could he succeed where literal gods had failed? This was stupid. Beyond ridiculous. Pointless.

And someone was going to get hurt. It was going to be him. And himself. And Kenny.

Oh, and of course everyone that was going to grieve Kenny. Some poor little snot that never did anything to deserve the end he got.

“Except accidentally bring about the end of all life everywhere.” Kyle completed allowed and immediately hated himself. The brain-mouth filter problem was only getting worse with time.

When was the last time he’d had a meaningful rest? Too long. He hadn’t slept well the night before, digesting all the new information, trying to find solutions that likely weren’t even there.

“Fuck it. I’m done. I’m going the fuck to sleep. This is stupid.”

\--

Mornings were never ideal.

This one was particularly bad.

The first thing he noticed was he couldn’t move his arm.

Then he tested the toes.

Kyle felt an acute terror develop in the deepest recesses of his senses.

He couldn’t open his eyes either.

“Fucking sucks, doesn’t it?”

Oh god, his voice did not do snide well. He wanted very much to tell himself what an idiot he sounded like.

“Oh, fuck you.”

Great. He still didn’t have any fucking privacy in his thoughts.

And the middle-schooler had control of the body.

The situation that couldn’t possibly get any worse had somehow gotten worse.

Kyle struggled, as much as he could, and felt pinned. It was a paralysis. It was awful. He felt distinctly bad for forcing it upon his younger self.

But also pissed that the kid had managed to turn the tables on him in just a few hours of rest and oh, their eyes were open now.

It was so strange. He could feel his body move, the motions of getting dressed for the day, and see the world around him but he couldn’t control any of it. Nauseating. Revolting.

He took back half of his criticisms towards his younger self. Anyone would be a royal pain in the butt under these circumstances.

He tried communication, pushing his thoughts at the very least to bubble to the surface of the expanse, _Where are you going? It’s Saturday._

He didn’t receive an answer. Did he not manage to share the thoughts properly or was he just being ignored? How frustrating.

The answer came easily though. Kyle had no sooner left his home before the body was sprinting for the wrong side of the tracks.

 _Oh shit_ \--

Kyle envisioned pulling the reins on a horse. He wondered if visualizing it would help. It didn’t. The younger Kyle had full and complete control over the body and wasn’t relinquishing even an inch.

Urgent knocking on the McCormick front door. Kyle could just _kill_ his younger self.

“Who the fuck is--” Kevin gave Kyle a quizzical look as he opened the door, “Aren’t you Kenn--”

“No time!” Kyle gritted, running past towards the younger McCormick’s bedroom.

Kenny was half out of bed when he burst in, only wearing a pair of boxers and reaching for his signature parka, “Kyl--”

“I’m possessed!!”

Kyle was developing a very distinct hatred for children.

Kenny stared, “...I’m sorry, what?”

Kyle’s lungs protested from the exertion and he closed the door before invading the half naked boy’s personal space. Urgh, he could already hear how poorly he was going to reflect on that choice later.

“I’m possessed!” Kyle repeated frantically, “By my future self! Or--something! He says he’s future me!”

“Okay?”

At least his lack of communicative skills as a teen were finally having some use. Kyle tried to look away from the train wreck.

“He keeps flirting with you!”

 _Oh. My. God. Is that really the important information you want to impart?!_ Kyle was bursting with first-hand embarrassment.

“...uh-huh?” Kenny still had a distinctly nonplussed look, probably still trying to play catch-up in the conversation.

“And he’s trying to kill you!”

That finally got his attention, “Wait, what?”

“He says you’re immortal or something!” Kyle’s overly expressive arms almost hit Kenny in the face, he trudged forward undaunted, “Like, you die all the time but no one notices?! It’s psycho!”

 _Now_ he had Kenny’s full and complete attention.

Kyle could see the way the gaze hardened, posture now completely alert as he listened intently, his younger self didn’t seem to have taken any notice.

“He keeps saying this crazy shit about you causing the apocalypse and he needs to kill you before you cause some eldritch horror shit to destroy everything!” Kyle was finally losing some steam, panting for breath past his running and passionate speech.

“Huh.” Kenny’s voice had no emotion in it.

“I barely got control of my body again! I don’t know when he’s going to take it away again!”

Finally, late to the party, the young Kyle seemed to catch onto the shift in Kenny’s mood.

“...Kenny? It’s crazy, right?”

Kenny sighed and sat on his bed.

There was a silence that stretched, touching each corner of the room and offering no reprieve from the growing dread the boy was feeling.

Finally Kenny laughed humorlessly, “So the reason you were talking to me again was to find a way to kill me, huh?”

If Kyle could shut his eyes from the train-wreck to come, he would have, he knew himself well enough to know the stupidity that would follow.

“Not me! The weird asshole claiming to be my future self.”

“Yeah.” Kenny said blankly, “He’s probably just what he says he is.”

“Kenny…?”

True blues locked on his, “Is he still in there? Can he hear what’s going on?”

“Yeah, but--”

“How long?”

Kyle focused, _You’re twenty-eighth birthday_.

“I’m not repeating that.” Kyle protested, his resolve sounding pitily even to himself.

Kenny looked at him and it wasn’t kind. It was simple. Factual. “Please, Kyle.”

Kyle averted his gaze, “When you turn twenty-eight.”

Kenny nodded, simple, to the point. There something eerie in how easily he was accepting this.

“You don’t really believe this, right?” Kyle sounded desperate, “Right?”

Kenny didn’t answer just stared at his hands.

When he spoke, it was hollow.

“Ya know what sucks the most? The rise before the fall.” he let his hands fall limply, “Here I am thinking someone likes me--dumb, I know, and really it’s just some weird attempt on my life.”

He sighed, an empty sound that made Kyle’s heart drop.

“Look, future Kyle? You’re out of luck. I can’t be killed. God knows, I’ve tried--” both the Kyles flinched in one unifying motion, “--it doesn’t stick. It never sticks. It can’t be done.”

_Will you please give me control of the body before you do something even more stupi--_

Kyle gripped the other boys shoulders, “What the fuck do you mean you’ve tried to kill yourself?!”

Yeah. It was amazing he’d lived until adulthood with a brain like that one.

Kenny wasn’t looking at him. It wasn’t shame. It was nonchalance, “I mean what I said.”

“Why do you just believe this crap?” Kyle wheedled, “It’s--you can’t be--you’re not--Kenny, no.” he hated the sound of his voice breaking, “You can’t die.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the problem.”

“No! I mean you can’t die!” he could feel the warm sting of unshed tears, “I can’t--I couldn’t take if you died!”

The laughter the filled the room was _cruel_. It was derisive. Snippy. Judgmental.

Kyle couldn’t blame him.

“Do you remember sawing me in half, Kyle?”

“...what?”

“How about when you and Stan left me on the sled and I got crushed against a tree?”

“I--I don’t--”

Kenny raised a hand, “It’s alright. I don’t hold a grudge.”

Kyle could see the traces of a lie in there but he wouldn’t have pressed even if he had control of speech.

“You don’t care, Kyle.” there was no lie in the words, Kenny believed them completely, “No one does.”

It never really struck Kyle so solidly _why_ Kenny might be so weak to compliments.

“And that’s fine. Life will move on without me, if that were possible, an--”

Whatever words he had were lost.

Kyle could strangle his younger self.

He also wanted to excuse himself from the entire scene.

Kyle, thirteen, young, foolish, and impossibly awkward, had decided the best way to deal with a complicated issue regarding the destruction of all life everywhere and Kenny’s issues with immortality, cut off the other boy with a kiss.

What an idiot.

Kyle hated himself.

What an _idiot_.

This wasn’t the sort of issue that could be swept under the rug with something like that and considering early parts of the conversation.

Yep. Kyle expected it before he felt it, Kenny pushing him away roughly and glaring fiercely.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?”

His younger self had no words. Just internal panic. Kyle wondered if he could just take advantage of that for long enough to take control and diffuse the situation.

“Do you like playing with my feelings?!”

Oh dear, it might be too late even if he could regain control.

Kenny was also young and hard to stop from being stupid.

“I--” Kyle began.

“Thought it’d be cool to screw with me?!” Kenny glared, wiping his lips, “You _just_ told me you were trying to flirt with me to kill me--and then you--not fucking cool!”

“That’s not--he’s the one that--I--”

“You what?!”

Oh no.

Kyle felt the temper before it exploded, why was he such a volcano in his youth? “Screw you, Kenny! I’m sick of this--I’m sick of no one fucking listening--you suck! I’m out of here! You can deal with your stupid delusional death bullshit alone!”

Even while storming away, Kyle could feel the regret bubbling in his stomach. Stupid child. Exploded. Said shit he didn't mean. Ran away to avoid consequences.

Oh, and the heartbreak was there too.

That probably didn’t help matters.

Kyle decided against kindness. If he was acting like a twit, he’d get treated like one.

_Proud of yourself with that little stunt, are you?_

“Shut. Up.” Kyle ground out, his voice watery.

 _Yeah, well, this shit wouldn’t have happened if you’d stopped being ridiculous. You know I’m you and you know what has to happen_.

“Shut.” a rather nasally intake of breath, “Up.”

_Oh, is it hard to focus with some asshole in your head criticising your every move? Tough shit._

“I swear I will end us both if you don’t shut your fucking horrible mouth.”

Kyle obeyed.

He recognized truth in the words.

If there was one quality that could be attributed to him without fail, it was was tendency to cut off his own nose rather than concede.

He still privately hummed the tune to Uncle Fucka in the back of his mind though. A small rebellion to get it stuck in both of their heads.

They made it as far as Stan’s house before Kyle risked communication again.

Of course he’d run to Stan.

_You can’t tell Stan._

“And why the fuck can’t I?”

Explaining the delicate psychology of his super best friend at this point in their development was going to be a lost cause, he knew, he wasn’t the sort to listen to what others had to say about his own friends.

Kyle tried anyway.

_He’s not going to take it well._

“Fuck you.”

Kyle knocked on the door.

“Hey, dude. What’re you doing over here so early?”

Kyle felt the relief flow through him. How easily he could release tension with a familiar friendly face. It was, at the very least, a nice calm before the next storm.

At least his head didn’t hurt so much. It sucked playing backseat in his own body but at least he was on the giving end of headaches instead of the receiver.

Kyle, the younger one, opened his mouth. Once. Twice. Lost words.

Stan understood, as much as he could, and let him inside. “Have a seat, dude. Want me to grab you a drink or something?”

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Kyle asked, seemingly out of the blue.

“Uhh… I mean, aside from the ones we’ve seen?” Stan shrugged, “I dunno. Never thought about it.”

Kyle curled in on himself with a heavy exhale of too many emotions swirling in a small body, “I fucked up.”

Stan took a moment to thoughtfully examine the sentence, “You didn’t kill anyone, right?”

Ah, Stan. Kyle wasn’t quite sure whether to be impressed or insulted. His younger self settled for displeased.

“This is serious, Stan.”

The look on Stan’s face said that yes, that had been a somewhat serious question, but the boy let it slide.

“What happened?”

Where to even begin, Kyle wondered, the part about maybe dooming the future. Or maybe he’d burst out with ‘I’m possessed’ like a madman again. Oh, and there was also the whole of telling Kenny he knows about the whole dying and ditching while calling him a nutter.

“I kissed Kenny.”

Stan stiffened.

Kyle wanted to eat his own damn shoe. Of course. Preteens. A swirl of hormones nad stupidity wrapped up in self-absorbed obsession. Of course of all the world threatening issues, his youth was going to hyper focus on the one dumb thing.

Not to mention, somehow, the dumbest possible aspect to focus on with Stan at this instance of time. Kyle sat back for another disaster, crossing his fingers that the whole thing blew over quickly.

“Why would you do something like that?”

Stan’s tone was snappish, agitated.

Kyle felt himself hurt.

“I know it was dumb but you don’t need to be a dick.”

“I’m not being a dick, you’re being a gay-wad! First that dumb hug the other day and now this shit. What are you _gay_ now?” The word was spoken with such disdain. Kyle wanted to whack Stan over the head with a kitten.

Kyle’s chest puffed out, “What if I am?! What the fuck has gotten into you?!”

“What’s gotten into me?! What’s gotten into you! You never showed an interest in Kenny before! Why all this all of a sudden?!”

“It’s not sudden, you stupid asshole! I--” Kyle looked away, anger fading as emotion won out.

Kyle couldn’t quite, in any part of his life, manage to say words of affection out of anger. Not after the disaster with Heidi.

Stan didn’t back down, “You what?! You like him or something!?”

There was dread somewhere in Stan’s voice. Kyle sighed inwardly.

His younger counterpart doubled down, “How’s it any of your business if I do?!”

They were standing and shouting at each other. Kyle wondered if Stan’s family was out or just enjoying the show.

“You can’t like him!”

“And why the fuck not?!”

Stan burst, “Because I liked him first!”

There it was.

Kyle wanted to smack the both of them.

Stan’s eyes widened and he covered his mouth in horror, somethin like tears prickling the corners of his eyes.

Ah, Kenny McCormick. Unbeknownst to himself, quite popular in middle school. Kyle had always been thankful that he’d been so secretive about his crush and Stan had been in the closet at this point in history. They had, in his own timeline, completely avoided this whole affair. It was a laugh over drinks in Uni where they realized they’d crushed on the same boy at the same time.

A cheerful affair.

Kyle hadn’t mentioned he still held a torch.

Stan had, fortunately, long since moved on.

“I mean--” Stan looked around in trapped horror, “I--I’m not--”

_Please explain to your dingus super best friend that we don’t hate him for being gay. Or even for being a stupid jealous idiot._

The younger Kyle paid these thoughts no heed, eyes wide as Stan’s, “You can’t.”

Stan just looked at the carpet, unhappy and mortified, unresponsive and if Kyle knew his mindset, probably thinking about a drink.

They stood in silence for a long time. Kyle lobbing thoughts at his younger self to get his shit together here and there. It wasn’t a thoughtful silence or a stunned one.

They were at an impasse and neither child knew how to bridge it. By this point in time, Kyle had so many circling emotions and stress over the who Kenny-must-die thing that he’d probably conflated his own miserable crush way out of proportion. Stan hadn’t the slightest clue that backing down was an option. He’d revealed himself before he was ready and now he felt exposed and mortified.

It was thirty. Fucking. Minutes. Before either one of them spoke. Kyle had just about zoned completely out as he had apparently no control over anything in the terrible situation.

His own teenaged voice was what broke the silence.

“Okay. Fine. We have a common goal then.”

Stan looked up, confused.

Kyle had a premonition where this was going.

_Oh, you goddamn--_

“We both care about Kenny. Fine. We’ll deal with that later. Right now we have to save him.”

Stan was trying to do he mental math, “Kenny’s in danger?” followed by, “Why didn’t you start with that?” afterwards, “Wait, why is Kenny in danger?” and then finally, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This is going to sound crazy and I need you to believe me. Completely.”

Stan didn’t look like he wanted to.

“I’m calling in my One.”

They had only one One. Kyle sighed. He didn’t think the kid would pull that card. Just a single time, in their entire life, where the other _had_ to believe them, no matter what.

They’d made the pact because of the insanity in South Park that was regularly outside the realm of belief. It was supposed to be reserved for only times of absolute peril. That’s why there was only One.

Though, he supposed, the end of the world probably sounded dramatic enough to deserve it. He still didn’t like it.

Stan took a seat in response, indicating that he was listening. Starting out with Kenny was a good tactic, he almost could commend his hellion of a former self.

“My future self possessed me and is trying to kill Kenny to save the world. We told Kenny about it and he agrees he should die but claims it’s impossible because he’s immortal.” Kyle struggled with the next words, “And that he tries.”

Stan digested this a minute.

“...are you really using your One for this?”

Kyle nodded.

“ _Really_ ?” Stan’s face was pained. It was too ridiculous. Too over the top. Too much in one go. He _really_ didn’t want to have to believe this or forsake their bond of Super Best Friend-ness.

“Yes.” Kyle reaffirmed.

“Okay.” Stan said, as though it was clearly anything but, “Where is your future self now?”

“Inside my head calling me an idiot.”

 _And a selfish twit!_ Kyle added helpfully.

Stan sucked in a deep breath, voice a touch more high pitched, “Okay then.”

“I’m not crazy.” Kyle snapped.

“I am forced to believe that as a fact by the bonds of our friendship.” Stan offered in response.

Kyle wasn’t pleased but he accepted the response.

“Why is your future self trying to kill Kenny again?”

_To save your damn life. And my own. And Ike’s. Goddamn short-sighted kids._

Kyle had a premonition that this was going to lead to a botched exorcism.

Kyle rubbed his temples to ease the pain between them, “He said that Kenny’s existence brings about the apocalypse.”

Stan brightened, “Can’t we just talk Satan out of it or something then?”

“Wrong apocalypse. Apparently.”

“Oh.” Stan took a moment to think, “Which apocalypse then?”

“Like Cthulhu except worse? Apparently we all die. And the afterlife is gonna get wrecked too.”

“Oh. Huh. That sounds crummy. How’s future you taking it?”

“...not great.”

Kyle snorted inwardly, that was a way of putting it.

“Okay, but, _if_ Kenny’s immortal, doesn’t that mean future you… can we call him terminator Kyle?”

“No.”

 _Hell no_.

“Okay, so doesn’t that mean that Terminator Kyle is doomed to fail no matter what he tries?”

“There’s still the apocalypse to worry about.”

 _Didn’t know you believed so much now_.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Stan looked perturbed, “...I didn’t say anything?”

“Not you. Me.”

“...do we _really_ have to use this as your One?”

\--

Kyle hated himself. All of himself.

He… felt better.

Tossing around ideas hadn’t gotten either of them closer to their goals but ultimately he just felt better. He hated that he didn’t think to go to Stan himself and he hated that he relied so heavily on his friend as to need that extra support.

He hated that his younger self was so stubborn and insubordinate and he also hated that the boy still had so much faith in his own abilities. That blind belief in children that they could make the impossible possible if they just tried hard enough.

It was such a frustrating perception of reality to deal with.

A perception that Kyle wasn't trying to kill Kenny because there was no other feasible option, it was that he was just being obstinate by not finding a second option somehow.

Acting like Kyle was just _choosing_ this option rather than being pigeon-holed into it.

The younger him was dozing off and Kyle waited patiently for the slip in control so he could repossess the body and then--

Then what?

Kill Kenny?

If he was honest, he didn’t want to. He’d never wanted to.

And he was still no closer to a _how_.

He could at least try to clog the damage Kyle had caused today. The look on Kenny’s face after that ridiculous kiss would probably haunt him.

“...this is all so dumb.” Kyle started himself at the sound, he hadn’t even noticed himself slipped back into control.

“Great, now I just need to never sleep again to maintain this.”

This wasn’t a sustainable way of life. As much as his younger self was a drama queen, the kid wasn’t wrong. He was more or less destroying his own life in a spiral of failure. What the hell did Satan really think he could do?

Why hadn’t they told him exactly what happened to Kenny?

It bothered him. A lot. Sure, there was the knowledge that Kenny was a harbinger or someshit but that didn’t _mean_ anything. Kyle couldn’t be expected to solve anything if he was working off of limited intel.

A gentle knock on his door tore him from his thoughts.

“Come in.”

Ike, somewhat shakily, but a determined look in his small face edged into the room.

“...why are you possessing my brother?”

Kyle sat up in bed, regretting it instantly when Ike flinched back in fear, “Ike--”

“Answer my question.”

Ah, he knew that particular monotone. For as small as the eight year old was, he meant business and he would rain down Broflovski brand justice on anyone that mussed him around.

He searched for a way to answer the question without heightening the tension coating the situation.

It was all so unreasonably complicated.

He opened his mouth to come up with something. He was a talker. Maybe his lack of brain to mouth filter would actually assist the situation. Maybe he’d just talk Ike around. He trusted his own voice.

The trust was mislain.

“I don’t want to kill Kenny.”

The raw emotion in his voice shocked him to tears and he didn’t even bother to try fighting them. They bubbled down his cheek and his voice shattered under the pressure.

“I don’t want to kill Kenny.” he repeated, like a plea.

Ike had been eaten alive in front of him. His precious brother, now standing there like nothing in the world was wrong. That was inaccurate. He was standing there like a lot of things were wrong.

But he didn’t _know_.

Kyle felt like he was betraying the boy by merely thinking such a treacherous thing.

“I don’t want to.”

He sobbed.

“They can’t make me.”

He had to.

“Why couldn’t they just make someone else do it?”

Can’t someone else please save the world?

“He’s my friend.”

Kenny who was the only one to show up to help him move.

Kenny who giggled at terrible jokes and poked at Kyle’s sides.

Kenny who had an easy way about him that could comfort his frayed nerves even after his students made him reconsider academic arsen out of sheer stupidity or the administration demanded even more ridiculous roll-backs.

Kenny who knew how to listen.

Kenny who always had thoughtful opinions.

Kenny who couldn’t die and cried because his friends didn’t know.

Kenny who was… Kenny. He was Kenny. That was all he ever needed to be to Kyle.

He couldn’t see Ike past his tears and he didn’t care that he was too old to be sobbing his heart out like an idiot.

Ike’s hand touched his shoulder, hesitantly, but gently.

“Why do you have to kill Kenny?”

It was a simple question, Kyle knew the answer, he’d been answering the same question for fucking _days_ and he could recite the entire spiel easily. Instead he broke into another peel of sobs, “I don’t _know_.”

He didn’t. Not really. Kill Kenny, save the world. Simple as that. That was the information he’d been provided.

That didn’t _mean_ anything.

“I hate this.”

He fell asleep to questions he couldn’t answer and the sound of his younger sibling gently pulling for information. He couldn’t do it anymore. Not tonight. He needed a reprieve.

He couldn’t stop crying and he couldn’t stop hating himself for his own weakness.

\--

It was somewhat surprising to wake up still at the helm of things. He’d expected the evenings weakness to give his younger self all the leverage he needed to pull another stunt.

It was quiet inside and he felt the now familiar fear that the kid wasn’t there at all.

The insidious thing cropped up, here and there, what if he’d fucked up and accidentally expelled his younger self entirely? What if he’s somehow killed his past and now had to relive his life all over again? What if he crushed his own mind and the paradox of it all killed them both, leaving no one to stop the impending doom hanging over the world?

 _You worry too much_.

Receiving the accusation from himself was offensive.

“I’m going to try fixing shit with Kenny.”

The child was silent.

“I get it. We’re dumb about him. He’s not unreasonable though and if we talk it out… well, I don’t fucking know.”

_So you and him are going to work together to kill him, is that it?_

Kyle flinched.

_Why are you doing this if you don’t want to so badly?_

Of course he’d been present to witness his own breakdown. Kyle wondered where Ike had gone off to.

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

 _You’re an idiot_.

“You’ve said.” Kyle made about getting dressed for the day, weighing the pros and cons of just going straight to the McCormick household the second morning in a row.

_No. You’re a huge ridiculous idiot. There’s another solution, you just refuse to look for it._

“And what would that be?”

Predictably the bravado fluctuated, why did he have such idealistic and simple views? Kyle sighed, “Look, if you think of something, let me know.”

 _It would be a lot easier if you would pull your head out of your ass and help me_.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He’d see Stan first and then Kenny. Explain to Stan briefly to disregard the One and then see what he could salvage of his destroyed friendship.

He didn’t make it out the front door.

There, on his living room couch like it was the most normal thing in the world, was Kenny.

And Ike.

Talking.

He tried to think of a familiar jingle to calm himself with. Something to calm his temper, his panic, and all the miscellaneous emotions in between.

He drew a blank.

Kyle didn’t even had a decision in how his entrance was perceived. He’d only been gapin for a moment before both boys turned towards him solemnly. Ike nodded slightly and turned back to Kenny.

“I’ll be back later.” Ike gathered a backpack and headed for the door. Kyle lurched forward involuntarily. He should stop Ike, he should get answers--

“Kyle.”

Kenny’s voice had that too-old-for-his-age tenor to it that brought Kyle back to the problem he wasn’t ready to deal with yet

He tried to smile, some sort of sign that he wanted to ease the situation, it didn’t really work.

Kenny didn’t even bother.

“We need to talk.” a brown glove gestured to Kyle’s family couch, Kyle took the hint and had a seat.

“Yeah.” he replied, sounding weaker than he wanted to.

Kenny’s eyes weren’t hard but they weren’t soft. It reminded Kyle a lot of the moments before Kenny was all too perceptive. Last time he’d experienced being on the other end of it, Kenny found out about his embarrassingly large collection of childhood memorabilia.

This was a younger Kenny though.

“You’re the older Kyle, aren’t you.”

It wasn’t really a question.

Kyle sighed, “That obvious, am I?”

Kenny shook his head, “It’s just, I don’t think Kyle would be as composed as you are after yesterday,” he looked away awkwardly, “No offense.”

He waved it away, “None taken. I was… a bit intense in my youth.”

That earned him a laugh that almost sounded sincere, “That’s a way of putting it.”

Kyle felt for his younger self, just a bit, the kid was being silent but this conversation had to painful to hear, “Sorry about that--” Kyle made a gesture that attempted to encapsulate everything, “If it makes it feel any better, the little guy hated himself before he’d even stormed away.”

Kenny nodded, a thoughtful frown on his lips, “It’s weird hearing you talk about yourself like this.” he leaned back against the couch, looking towards the ceiling for answers that no one had, “So I guess what he said about you trying to kill me is true though, right?”

No point in lying. He had no idea what Ike had talked about with the other boy, “Sort of. I haven’t actually tried yet.” he laughed but it felt empty, “It’s a bit hard convincing yourself to kill one of your best friends, you know?”

Blue eyes pulled at him again, “What about the other thing?”

God, he didn’t want to do this.

Kyle decided that the ceiling was easier to talk to. “He’s overreacting because he’s jealous and thirteen. You know how kids ar--” Kyle stopped himself and rubbed his temple, “Or I guess, you know what it’s like to be the age you are. There’s emotions and anger and hormones and he’s a _really_ awkward kid.”

Kenny didn’t speak for awhile and when he did it was soft.

“Why’s he jealous?”

Kyle withheld a groan, purely for Kenny’s sake, and plunged onwards. He was going to have to kill this child. He may as well ensure the poor kid knew he was loveable before he went.

“This is pretty embarrassing, I’ll have you know.” he began while giving the boy a pained smile, “I didn’t really want to relive this particular stage in my life. And you, little sir, break my heart quite soundly in about a year or so, so that’s not great either. But I had a bit of a thing for you back in middle school.”

Under-playing it was dumb. He was being childish.

“So... right now.” Kenny confirmed, an awkward shuffle inside of a small fear.

Kyle rolled his eyes, “Yes, Kenny. My thirteen year old self had a gigantic and embarrassing crush on you.”

“Wait--why would I break your heart?”

Urgh. He shouldn’t have brought that up. Kyle looked away from the kid, gathering himself for more honesty, “It wasn’t mutual.”

“Wasn’t--but that’s--”

Kyle cut in, “Look, kid, I can see you’re starting to have--” how did he put this gently? “--a thing. Look, you don’t like me or my past self for that matter. We’ve gone over this. You’re just enjoying the attention. There’s a difference.”

He wasn’t looking at Kenny so he didn’t see whatever expression was maring his features before he was thumped soundly over the head. He didn’t think it was good though. By the time he’d gotten his ow and head rub in to look back, Kenny’s expression was closed off and irritated.

“Let’s not talk about this.” it was the same voice from the beginning of the conversation, “I didn’t come here about that anyway.”

Kyle agreed readily, “What did you come here for?”

“We have to find a way to kill me. If what you say is true,” Kenny didn’t look like he doubted it, “I’m not going to let that happen.”

Kyle, the younger one, who had thus far remained suspiciously quiet aside from the occasional pang of emotional distress, stirred.

Kyle couldn’t explain it any other way. The boy _stirred_. Was that supposed to happen?

“Yeah.” Kyle managed in return, “I’m not really sure where to start with that though.”

“I have an idea.”

There was that stirring again.

“A few years ago I got a hint--I don’t know how we might find one but, basically it says that only an immortal can kill another immortal.”

Kyle gaped openly.

“Then why the fuck didn’t Satan just do it?! Why did he send me?”

Kenny sighed, “It doesn’t work like that. I thought of that before--I asked him if he would. He can’t. Neither can the upper world assholes.”

“Why the hell not?” this was confusing, “Wait, Satan told me he’d already tried, did that red dickbag lie to me?”

There was still the shifting.

“Ah,” Kenny smiled in a way that didn’t meet his eyes, “He’s not actually immortal. Apparently, just long-lived. Same can be said for the rest.”

“...so wait, you can kill god?” The idea shouldn’t have struck Kyle as so bizarre, he wasn’t particularly religious, but it still seemed odd, “What about Jesus? We’ve seen him die a few times and he comes back. Isn’t that the same as you?”

Kyle really didn’t want to remember when he’d had to do the deed himself

“Strictly speaking, Jesus is imaginary.” Kenny shrugged, “It’s a loophole. You can’t be immortal if you’re imaginary.”

This time the shift felt a bit painful.

“Basically we have to find an immortal but the rules as to what constitutes as an immortal and what doesn’t are subjective. And we have no idea who makes the rules.”

“There’s a reason I haven’t found a way yet.”

Something _snapped_.

Kyle couldn’t describe it any other way. He’d been pulled to the back fo the picture with a _twang_ that reverberated through him.

“You’re both stupid assholes!”

Oh dear. Volcano Broflovski was at the steering wheel again.

Kyle felt his fingers grasping Kenny’s startled shoulders.

“Have either one of you even thought _once_ that you’re trying to solve the wrong problem?!”

Kenny gathered himself, “We’re trying to save the wor--”

“ _No_ ,” Kyle didn’t know he could do that level of vehement, “You _idiots_ are trying to kill Kenny!”

Kyle didn’t really see the difference.

And then he did.

“It’s the only way--” Kenny protested.

“ _Who says_?!” Kyle demanded.

Kenny, just a touch bemused, “Uh, you?”

“Not. Me.” Kyle ground out. “Some old, washed up bastard who’s given up before trying. I am not him.” he glared at Kenny’s now slightly startled face, “I will _never_ become him.” he promised.

“That’s nice and all, Kyle, but I don’t really see any alternatives…”

Kyle took a deep and not at all calming breath, “Because you’re thinking about the wrong. Fucking. Problem.”

“What’s the right problem then?” Kenny indulged, unconvinced.

Kyle hated that he needed his younger self to point this out. He hated that he’d been so caught up in his own emotional halestorm that he’d missed out on simple shit. He hated that in a way, he’d been behaving far more like a snot-nosed preteen than his actual teen counterpart.

“Save the world.”

Kenny caught up, just a bit, but his brow still knit with unanswered questions, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Satan said you were a harbinger, apparently, and that you’re existence brings those things here.”

“Okay, we’re on the same page up until here.”

“What if we just take away what makes you a harbinger?”

It was just so ridiculously overly simplistic.

So childish and dumb.

So completely and utterly beyond assistance.

Kyle had no words for his younger self.

“But it’s my existence that…”

“Then we alter your existence!”

Kenny’s eyes were wide and a big blue, a meaningful blue, why did Kyle always find himself so completely wrapped in the color? They shown with knowledge and depths. They were the supposed windows into the soul.

These particular windows reflected a boy caught in emotion and another just learning to hope, hiding behind the glass.

Kenny was looking at him like he was the biggest idiot he’d ever met and the smartest person he knew.

“That’s not really possible though…” he tried.

The young Kyle wasn’t swayed in the least, “Neither is killing you apparently!” he gave Kenny’s shoulder a squeeze, “If I have to choose between two impossible things, I’d prefer to reach for a result that I actually _want_.”

So simple.

Youth was dumb. Youth was foolish and foolhardy. Youth was _strong_. Youth was emotional. Youth had a way of picking apart problems that adults struggled with for ages and just turning it upside down to look at the bottom.

Goddamnit.

Younger him was completely right.

Of course that’s when the front door opened to admit Stan and Ike.

\--

He’d been trying _so hard_ to avoid Eric Cartman.

When dealing with evil though, a touch of evil could sometimes be a bit on the helpful side. Cartman was far from the best ally but an absolutely horrifying enemy.

And he had experience that could prove invaluable.

Still, he didn’t want to. He’d spent so much of his adult-life perfecting the distance with Cartman. He didn’t want to back out on that commitment, even in a strange past reality where he was only here as a ghost.

Stan was right though.

“I mean, he’s the only one of us that actually _talked_ to Cthulhu.”

“I talked to him!” Kenny had protested, “Okay, I talked _at_ him. But _still_.”

It wasn’t hard finding the lardass either. It was Sunday so unless there was some psychotic scheme that Kyle didn’t recall, he’d be at his house playing video games and doing his damndest to gain yet more weight.

“What do you want, _Kahl_?”

“Oh, hey fellas! What’re ya guys doin’ over here?”

Kyle tried to tune out the conversation from there. His younger self wasn’t relinquishing control of the body yet and the following clambering explanation to his worst enemy was sure to be a headache.

There was Stan, vouching for him, Kyle was a bit frustrated that Stan seemed to believe it all much more now that Ike was corroborating his story. There’s Ike standing off to the side and only adding when he deemed necessary. His own younger self, too easily riled up and overly aggressive, and of course there’s Kenny, something between Stan and Ike’s contribution.

Kyle hated the entire scene, just a bit, he was an outsider in it.

His younger self was there, sure enough, but he wasn’t. He was just a warning from the future. _His_ Stan was somewhere in hell a decade in the future. _His_ Ike was hanging out with his mom there. _His_ Butters was probably helping patch up Stan. _His_ Kenny was--

He still didn’t know. And it _bothered_ him.

He missed them. Looking right at them and he missed them.

These weren’t his friends as he knew them. They were a memory, distant and strange, there hadn’t been weddings or funerals or graduation or a whole assortment of other growth marking ceremonies in life yet.

Stan wasn’t comfortable with who he is yet. He hadn’t put down the bottle yet. He hadn’t settled down and worked a boring office job.

Ike hadn’t started university or traveled across the country. He hadn’t amassed experiences and closed the divide between them through a stronger friendship in adulthood.

Butters was still hanging around anyone that would give him the time of day rather than those that deserved and were capable of appreciating his company. He hadn’t dropped out of university and started his own little business.

Kenny was--

Kenny wasn’t the same Kenny that stayed up with him when shit hit the fan. Not yet. He wasn’t the man that gave until there was nothing left to give but still managed to get by with a grin. He hadn’t yet pushed him through a degree or cried at seeing Karen graduate. He hadn’t texted Kyle a thousand dumb memes about paper cranes when Kyle’s mom was in the hospital. He hadn’t picked Kyle clean up and twirled him at Stan and Butters wedding. He--

“STAN AND BUTTERS GET MARRIED?!”

Shit.

He’d been trying _so_ hard not to think about spoilers in case his younger self, well, did exactly this. Since when had the little bastard been peeking into his thoughts?!

The entire rooms focus was trained on the older Broflovski. Well, aside from the two in question, who were now openly gaping at each other.

Cartman’s face screwed up, “What the fuck does that have to do with with your dumb apocalypse thing?” he thought about it further, “Gay.”

“Ah--I’m sure that Kyle here just meant that--well, I’m not all that sure but golly, let’s not jump to any conclusions or anythin’.” Butters was trying to process the information.

Stan looked between Kenny and Butters and then finally landed on Kyle before pinching his nose, “Wait, what?”

“I-I don’t know! My future self was thinking, really loudly I might add--”

“--since when do you do anything quietly.”

“--and suddenly he was bringing up getting spun around at their wedding!”

_...has it ever occurred to you, pipsqueak, that sharing that kind of information might make the event not happen?_

“Of course it has! But--how did that even happen?”

“Is he talking to us or himself?”

Kenny clapped his hands together, loudly, attention was drawn away from the new information, if only briefly, “I think that’s a conversation for Stan and Butters to have _without_ interference from the future. Let’s just focus on making sure the future actually _exists_ for that to even happen in.”

“But I don’t--” Stan protested, Kenny silenced him with a look.

“Look, dude, no one knows what’s gonna happen. And if you’re dead-set against it, well, now you know to avoid it. But for now let’s actually focus so Kyle can go back to having his head to himself.”

“I would appreciate that.” Kyle The Loudmouth smiled shakily.

Kyle, from his spot inside a meat-cage, glowered. _Not as much as I would, half-pint._

“Could you stop calling me short?”

“Well, he is a lot taller than you.” Ike offered, the only person in the room capable of seeing at all what the eldest looks like. Kyle’s thoughts halted, if Ike could see him, could he hear him?

A question for another time, he supposed.

“Okay, goddamnit, no more of that. Cartman do you have the damn Cthulhu book or not? Or any way to contact that asshole?”

Cartman glared and he looked like he was ready to become contrary. Kyle prepared for a long and frustrating debate that wouldn’t end well.

Butters touched the boys arm, just slightly. Cartman wilted.

“I’m only showing you guys because you accept that I’m Cthulhu’s best friend.”

Kyle wasn’t sure why on earth Cartman would consider that a good thing but arguing didn’t complete complicated issues.

Butters was looking at all parties anxiously and trying to look at no one at all. Finding words and then swallowing them without a sound.

Kyle sympathized with the poor guy. He hadn’t wanted to get Butters involved in this either. He did feel a bit better though, in a strange way.

Butters looking at them all anxiously. Ike trailing behind. Himself and Cartman in a half argument. Stan chipping in here and there with information. Kenny listening and contributing a bit of smarm here and there.

It was his group. In his childhood they’d achieved ridiculous and impossible things. He felt somewhat heartened at the sight. The five of them working together? For the first time since everything happened, he almost didn’t feel afraid.

Like a chorus of music through his mind. They were a group doomed to go their separate ways and live their separate lives and that would be for the best when it happened.

But _now_ , in this moment, he had the imaginary strength of youth on his side.

\---

Distantly, beyond the reach of man and outside the grasp of time, the world began to move again.

He hadn’t known at the time.

Something awoke, stirred by a surge of emotion and intent, an upside world gratin life away and consuming endlessly.

A hand reached for what wasn’t the sky and a tendril of darkness touched the ground instead.

Creatures were stirring and the a new scent arose.

Distantly, a dread felt around for a form. Physical manifestations of fear itself pondered the intrigue of corperial life.

In a halfway world, everything had a halfway life.

\---

It was stupid. So. Fucking. Stupid.

It had gotten out of time. Reading the damn book, his younger self had broken into an argument about semantics and Cartman lost his temper.

And it devolved in the worlds most ludicrous game of ‘you _can’t_ ’ and ‘ _I can and I so will_!’ before all the stupidity over-flowed into real and terrible problems.

Kyle’s foolish self had more or less just dared Eric fucking Cartman to open a hole to the other world where Cthulhu and the other abyss creatures lived.

So stupid.

And Cartman, no foresight whatsoever, did so with shocking efficacy. Kyle was significantly concerned that this wasn’t he first time he’d done so.

Another problem for another day, he supposed.

Now they had to deal with the unearthly uncanny valley that stretched around them.

Stan was pinching the bridge of his nose. “Cartman. Could you please. _Please_. Bring us home. Now.”

And to Kyle’s horror, Cartman looked just a touch panicked, “I left my book in my room.”

“Well, we’re fucked.”

“Thank you for that steller contribution, Ike.” Kyle closed his eyes and tried to think of a way that it wasn’t already the actual worst.

There was no describing the creepy world around them. The book had attempted to, entire passages on a world without rules or standards, warped into a smaller spiral of decay that rotted away at time and space until all concepts were broken into manageable bits that the _creatures_ could eat.

Both Kyles decided it was probably a good idea to arm himself, all things considered, and picked up a somewhat organic looking spike from the ground. He could manage with this.

He hoped.

He could vaguely hear the others talking but he hung towards the back, trying to gather his thoughts.

The world was strange and it was playing with his senses. It felt like something was pushing--

It was like a stab through the chest. A sudden pressure that took away his entire sense of being. A hissing whisper using his own vocal cords purred, “How nice.”

And like a cold punch to the gut Kyle jolted and realized he could no longer feel his younger self. He reached in panic and only found something old, throbbing, and completely in control.

His heart stopped in dread. The creature used the makeshift weapon and stabbed forward.

Right through Kenny.

 _Kenny_!

His own voiceless cry caught Ike’s attention in time and he brought both himself and Stan out of the way.

Butters was less lucky.

“What the fuck?!” Cartman’s rage was palpitiple and he dragged the away from Butters, who was now clutching his bleeding side, “What the hell are you doing, Kahl?!”

“That’s not Kyle!” Ike screamed, the only warning Cartman had before the thing resumed it’s assault.

“Aw gee…” Butters was looking at the red in his hands before his eyes rolled backwards and he fainted.

Kyle hoped it wasn’t too deep a wound. Cartman stood between himself and the fallen boy.

The creature using his body laughed. It was a sick sound. He tossed the spike to the side and whistled, a deep and terrible sound.

There was the sound of feet scampering across the ground that made Kyle’s stomach drop.

He remembered that sound.

It was one of the many creatures that had come and killed, ripping people limb from limb like rabid dogs.

It was an insult to all mammals to compare this horror terrors to dogs though. They were a twisted mass of pulsating flesh and fangs that were driven by a horrible hunger.

“I’m going to enjoy watching you all get eaten away.” his own voice crowed, a victorious sound.

To his horror, Ike picked up the spike that had been discarded.

“Get out of my brother.”

His voice quavered.

Kyle could cry.

He was only eight. _Eight_. This shouldn’t be happening. Oh, god, they were all going to die and--

The new four legged creatures had arrived. Deceptively silently. One in particular prowling closer and closer to Ike while his attention was drawn elsewhere.

 _Ike_! Kyle’s cries locked in the mind of his own body, _Ike! Move! You have to move!_

It was heart-stopping. He couldn’t watch Ike die again. Not again. There wouldn’t be any undoing it either. He _couldn’t_ \--

Ike moved, swinging the spike like a bat around in a full arc to smash into the creatures skull and send it skidding back a full yard. Stan wasted no time from there rushing over and picking the boy up.

“Hey--!” Ike complained, Stan thankfully didn’t pay it any mind.

“No whining! Just running!”

Kyle couldn’t express his relief, not really, but they were were getting a distance away from the scimpering creatures and Kyle was thankful for what he could get.

“Well, do you give up yet?”

He really and truly hated his pubescent voice. He had since the beginning of this entire ridiculous raucous. He hated it all the more with the edging dark tones of cruelty coating.

Kyle reached out for any sense of his younger self but still felt nothing. Shit. Chances were the creepy creature had just crushed the soul within his new meat-marinette.

Cartman was glaring, positioned in front of Butters and still bleeding, “I never give up to dirty little--”

The unearthly laugh cut in, “You really don’t get it. I’m not your little friend. I’m beyond him. I’m beyond you all.”

Kyle tried to quell his panic. The creatures had seemingly given up on the fleeing pair and instead taken to slowly circling Cartman and Butters. “‘Ey!” Cartman complained as tendril reached out, burning at his flesh.

God, Kyle was going to watch all of his friends die again.

And Kenny--

 _Kenny_.

He hadn’t moved. Not since Kyle’s body had stabbed him.

Was he dead for real? Kyle’s heart sank at the thought. Whatever being had control of him was clearly powerful. Was it an immortal?

Had Kyle achieved his mission and cost all of their lives?

Was this what Satan and the others were aiming for to begin with?

Was it really impossible to find a solution that didn’t kill Kenny McCormick?

No.

Feeling started somewhere within the deepest part of his stomach and grew into a roar out of his throat. He didn't have a stomach. He didn't have a throat. He understood this. He should understand this. He wasn't in control. Whatever had taken over his body had taken control, had taken his body, had taken his friends, had taken his Kenny.

No. He repeated, sounding through his noncorporeal form like a cry.

No.

There was nothing that could stop him now. He would not stop.

No one was going to kill Kenny.

His heart screamed the same battle cry as his mind he knew. He knew there was no getting out of this with a happy ending. When people face unbending futility, they fail. They fall.

He understood this was truth. But he wouldn't let it stop him.

He’d been spending too much time with his younger self but the fire inside couldn’t be denied.

The mind that was crushing his own to a corner flinched and Kyle _felt_ it. So much time hearing and feeling for every tip of his own mind hoping not to crush the poor child within. Hoping that he wouldn't hurt someone.

No.

He felt the flinch and he pushed.

“Oh?” The voice was translucent but oh so slight strained, “I didn’t know you still had the strength to bite back.”

 _Always,_ his heart promised. _Always_ , he would have the strength to fight back. He knew what it was to give into adversity. He done so great many times. Not today.

Not with the immobile form of Kenny before him and the futility of it all threatening to destroy him.

He would not fall. He would not fail. He would save Kenny. He would save the world.

His thoughts resounded. He felt like he could hear his own voice echo them but his vocal cords were still being occupied by the mocking chuckles of a monster.

The collapsed figure of Kenny budged. And then rose like a marinette in one smooth motion.

“What the fuck…?” Cartman’s voice vocalized Kyle’s own mute thoughts.

Kenny’s body looked up and Kyle found himself staring into green eyes.

His own green eyes.

_That little brat didn’t--_

“Hey!” Kenny’s voice had none of it’s normal careful choice. It was a rough voice, fueled by emotion, “Asshole! Get your own body!”

There’s a creek that people can sometimes wind up without a paddle. It’s a rather peculiar thing. Kyle knew the feel of the sludge that threatened to drown the unwarry though.

He had a policy when he wound up in situations such as these.

He focused everything he had to the here and now.

Fine. Young Broflovski. You want to fight back.

Kyle grit every bit of energy he could gather within him and _pushed_.

_Get._

_Out._

The creature, still stronger than him, metaphorically doubled over.

Kyle could just barely see Kenny, or rather Kyle The Young And Stupid, ahead, pushing back the creatures that had surrounded Butters and Cartman. Great. Now the kid had a handle on telekinesis. That was something absolutely no one needed, thirteen year old Kyle Broflovski having the ability to throw you with his mind.

“This won’t work,” the voice hissed at him, “Even if you push me back now, I’ll find a way.”

 _Dreidal, dreidal, dreidal_.

There was a certain advantage to being a backseat to possession. While you had absolutely no control over any and all motor functions, you also had absolutely no control over any and all motor functions.

Which meant Kyle could see _exactly_ where the creature was focusing his gaze.

He snarled.

 _Never_.

It was a promise. To himself. To the future. To his friends.

The too thin body of Kenny McCormick wasn’t going to be used for _any_ of it.

The adult body of Kenny McCormick wasn’t going to be used for _any_ of it.

Kyle would stop it. Period. No if, just determination.

He snarled and to his surprise he could hear some of it coming from his own mouth. He wasn’t the only one surprised.

 _You’re scared of me_. It didn’t make any sense. The creature was larger, larger than life, and more powerful than he could dream of being. He searched for the being within him and it struck him like a ton of bricks.

You couldn’t possess a person with only part of yourself. You couldn’t divide your soul and hope for the best.

It was all or it was none.

And this _thing_ was inside him.

All of it.

It’s larger than life strength and vitality but _none_ of the physical mass it normally relied on.

It was old and that made it strong.

Kyle had a thing or two to say about the strength of youth though.

He didn’t hesitate.

He didn’t try to get one last glance at himself as Kenny. Check to see if Ike or Stan were still safe.

He didn’t assess the situation and he didn’t spend a moment on regret.

He didn’t pause to apologize to his younger self for the act.

Inside of himself he’d made himself small, impossibly small, it was probably the only reason he hadn’t been thrown out or crushed like his younger self had been. He’d made himself as small as possible because he understood that two in one just wasn’t enough room.

It couldn’t be accommodated.

And, ultimately, it was _his_ body. His soul wanted every inch of it. To stretch its legs and access every single neuron.

The creature from the depths of the abyss had eons of experience being an abyss monster.

Kyle had twenty-seven of being Kyle Broflovski. And he’d made every fucking minute of it _count_ for something.

He expanded. The creature didn’t shrink back, it was crushed back.

 _Mine_.

It was his.

His body.

His life.

His friends.

Every goddamn hair follicle was _his_ and he wouldn’t accept any other answer.

“What are you doing?!” the creature whinnied, he could hear his friends snapping to attention at the sound, his little brother crying his name, “You’ll kill us both!”

 _Ha_ , Kyle thought, _Suck it_.

As far as last words went, he could live with those.

It would be a difficult sensation to describe. Feeling large and small, expanded and elongated, crushed and crushing. There was a physical pain to it, humming through him, and the grim satisfaction of knowing he could win, just by his bloody-minded petty inability to quit.

He refocused. Everything that made him. He hummed softly.

_Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, I made you out of clay. Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, with dreidel I shall play._

Just focus on being Kyle.

“ ** _Stop_**!”

 _Shut your fuckin’ face, uncle fucka_.

Kyle was pretty positive that no one had ever called a creature from the abyss an uncle fucker.

His body burned. Two fully expanded souls in one body. Both of them, in all reality, too large for a childs form.

His voice was screaming in pain but he couldn’t quite trace if it was him or the creature.

 _Get out_.

“I won’t cow to--”

Another shockwave of pain shot through his fingertips and resounded to the deep of his heart.

Oh shit.

He really was going to die at this rate.

He closed his eyes and realized he did indeed have control of the action.

He pressed on.

“ _Kyle_!”

His eyes shot open into an expanse of blue.

“Stop! I’ll make it go away--just _stop_!”

He couldn’t shake his head but he tried nonetheless.

“You’ll kill your younger self too!”

Yeah, he really hoped they didn’t go to the afterlife or after abyss as two separate entities, he was very sure his younger self wouldn’t appreciate this.

“Don’t--” Kenny’s voice cracked and then it solidified, “You’re not doing this!”

_And how do you intend to stop m--_

He was shocked backwards.

He lifted a hand numbly and Kyle realized something he hadn’t been able to previously.

The expanse of blue belonged to an adult male.

“Kenny?”

The form was shadowed and not entirely a person. A blue sky that could only be described as the color of Kenny’s eyes made up the shape, vaguely humanoid aspects shadowed by the occasional tendril that slapped around him irately.

What was it the book had said? The place where time is broken?

Kyle tore to his feet, feeling strangely light and without the hindrance of his uninvited guest.

“Kenny!”

He wrapped his tiny arms around the man and bore them both to the ground, narrowly dodging the tentacle that _wasn’t_ coming from Kenny.

The creature had been expelled. Kyle couldn’t begin to perceive how Kenny had done it but it was expelled.

But the rules were different in this space.

Kenny’s arms wrapped around him and rolled them to the side in time to avoid another blow.

The creature, free of Kyle’s body but not entirely corporeal, swatted the ceiling in irritation, gurgling in a language Kyle had no conception of.

Kenny did. The man gurgled back.

“Where are these tentacles coming from?!” Kyle looked up at Stan, Ike, and himself still possessing Kenny’s younger body.

Wow. This was just a game of musical chairs. But with bodies. Gross.

Ike pulled Kenny’s body and Stan to the side just in time to dodge a randomly corporealized blow. So Ike could see the full mass of it too.

“Where’s Butters and Cartman?!” Kyle managed when he could breathe again.

“We got them back! What the fuck is that thing that’s holding you?!”

It occured to Kyle that the whatever had happened to Kenny, he might not look all that much like himself to the rest of them.

Kenny, the grown, didn’t let him answer though and just tugged him to his feet, “We have to get out of here! Why are you idiots even in this place?!”

Stan gasped, something clicking, “Kenny?!”

Kenny’s younger body whirled, “ _What,_ how is that thing Kenny?!”

“Explain later, run now!” Kenny urged, pushing them forward half with arms and half with tentacles. “Take me to where you put Cartman and Butters! I need to get you idiots out of here.”

They were out of range of the tantruming ghostly tentacle monster by now so Kyle risked digging in his heels.

“No.”

“No?” the chorus came from more than just Kenny.

“No.” Kyle repeated, stronger, “We came here to save you and we’re _going_ to save you.”

“Look, you guys got lucky you were only caught by that idiot. It can’t have a fully physical form here. If something more serious had found you there wouldn’t be any games like that, just dea--”

“Well. We all die _anyway_ if we don’t find a way to save you.” Kyle stamped, keeping his eyes locked on where’s Kenny’s surely were. “You’re going to help us. How do we change you so you’re not a harbinger.”

Kenny looked pained, glancing briefly at his younger body, “You have to kill me. That’s the onl--”

“No.” his voice echoed with the younger Kenny’s and he somewhat appreciated his younger self. Thought it was anyone’s guess how he was getting himself out of there and back where he belonged. Or how he was going to detach himself from this body now that he’d claimed it so thoroughly.

Stan nodded resolutely as well. Ike stood just a touch taller.

“‘EY! What are you asshole’s just doing standing there?!” and there’s Cartman coming up carrying the prone form of Butters. Kyle felt worried his injuries were worse than earlier anticipated.

Kenny’s eyes raked over the determined faces of youth and stopped on Kyles.

“I wasn’t expecting this.” it sounded like he was trying to say more with less, Kyle tried to understand, “I’ve been trying to figure out what I can do and you guys just show up. Of course you assholes show up.”

It was a tad watery.

“I can’t break my connection to this place.” Kenny looked to the endless and strange sky, “And I think my connection to it is all I am now.”

Kyle considered this.

Cartman, master of diplomacy, grunted in agitation, “Look, I secured us a ride home so let’s get out of here. Hurry up or I’m leaving you guys.”

It was the older Eldritch Kenny that caught on first.

“Oh my god. You didn’t.”

Cthulhu. Lord of darkness and master of his own personal abyss landed nearby.

“Of fucking course you did.”

Cthulhu on one side, some intangible monster slowly advancing on the other, and the knowledge that Kenny wouldn’t come with them.

“I’m going to fix this.” Kyle promised. He had an idea.

He had to get his brother and Butters out of here. Kenny’s body looked like it had seen better days as well.

Before he left he held his Kenny. For a moment, just a moment, he just held. The form wasn’t warm like a human should be. But it was still _him_ . With this knowledge Kyle reached out with his mind and _felt_.

Felt for everything he could. Within. Everything.

It was a washing sensation, as cruel and calm as an ocean and as turbulent as the skies. Kyle backed away and ignored the part of himself that felt ripped away.

“Are we really leaving him?”

It was his younger self. Kenny with green eyes was such a strange sight.

“Don’t worry,” Kyle promised, “I’m coming back for him.”

\--

It was a complicated rush. Returning home. Getting Butters to a hospital, leaving Stan and Cartman to keep an eye on him. Getting Ike home. Making _sure_ Cartman sent the dark lord Cthulhu back home.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Stan had looked a shade greener than usual, hospitals had never been his friend, but he stayed and glanced nervously down the corridor the nurses had taken Butters.

Cartman was silent when he returned from his send off, sitting on a chair in contemplation.

Kyle had shrugged, “I hope so.”

He did.

He wanted the future to have Butters in it. To have the memory of dancing terribly at their wedding to be recreated and for the future to exist at the end of this entire disaster.

He didn’t _know_ if it would though.

He knew it.

Stan knew it.

Judging from the contemplation on Cartman’s face, he knew it too.

Ike was easier to part with. He nodded to all three of them and declared that he was going to sleep and the first person to wake him would be losing an eye.

Kyle tried not to let it tug at him too much. The probable nightmares to come. The ways the eight year old had probably grown.

Too much in too short of a time.

And then it was the three of them in his room.

It was weird.

Now it was him, himself, and Kenny.

“Is--” he’d been scared to ask this question until now, “Is Kenny still… in there?”

Kenny’s head nodded and he felt a flood of relief, “He’s been mostly quiet. He doesn’t think as loud as you do. Just adding stuff here and there.”

“Sounds like him.”

“How the hell are we getting back into our bodies?” the boy looked so uncomfortable and concerned. The posture was so distinctly not Kenny’s as well. Kyle wondered if he looked that strange to himself as well.

“We have something else to do before that.” he gestured for them to sit and the kid obliged, cross legged on the floor of his own bedroom, “I have an idea how we can save Kenny.”

Green eyes blew wide, “Really?! How?!”

Goddamnit. Volume control. Kenny had a surprisingly large voice, Kyle’s raw and emotional use of it was bound to blow out someone’s eardrums sooner rather than later.

“We’re going to work together. I--when we were still in that place I felt Kenny for the cause.”

“Kenny, goddamnit, this is not the time for dirty jokes.” the boy responded and Kyle realized just how weird talking to himself must have looked.

“It’s lucky you grabbed Kenny’s body. I’m not sure we could do this if you weren’t. We’re going to find all the parts I felt and lock them.”

“Lock them?”

“Remember how it feels like? Being bubbled away in the back of the brain unable to escape?”

The boy nodded, realization donning, “We’re gonna do what we’ve been doing to each other but to the parts of him that are connected to the other world!”

“Yep.” Kyle nodded, “Look... I don’t know how this is going to affect his immortality or if it will do anything at all to it. And I’m not entirely sure it will work but…”

“We’ve got to try.”

Kyle smiled, appreciating the boy in front of him for his understanding.

“Is Kenny okay with it?”

There was another nod.

And they began.

Hands clasped, Kyle reached out.

He was getting used to the sensation of using his energy rather than his physical body. The trouble was training the eyes. He kept his shut to avoid distraction.

Within the thing frame of the small boy was the familiar feeling of his own prickling younger self. Always fiery and ready. A touch of fear and anxiety bubbling about the surface. He prodded it gently to tug it towards the next.

There, in the back of it all and impossible small, was Kenny.

Kyle wondered about the long term ramifications of this possession. Satan had certainly implied that his gifts were the only thing that offered his mind safety.

He felt a prod and there was the mass of his younger self, a reminder to focus, right.

They reached out together. He could just barely hear Kenny’s thoughts now.

 _Wow, two Broflovski’s in me at once._  The thought was accompanied by a wave of smarmy intent. _Kinky_.

He was going to kill this boy someday.

That part was Kenny though so he moved on. Feel for what he felt inside the older Kenny.

His younger self grasped something and he felt it.

Ah. Yes. That.

Ancient. Eldritch.  _Strange_.

They focused on separating it.

Kenny, as much as a noncorporial entity could, screamed.

 _Should we stop?!_ Kyle didn’t know which of him thought it.

 _No_. Kenny’s thought was firm, _Continue_.

Kyle didn’t hesitate from there. There wasn’t really a choice.

One piece of who knows how many others bubbled in and locked backwards.

Kyle searched for the next one.

\--

The trouble with fixing reality was you became no longer a part of it.

He’d returned the body and let go of his physical form. A ghost in an abyss.

An abyss scape that was changing and correcting itself before his eyes.

Kyle sat with his knees to his chest and stared as the reality collapsed.

The being that was Kenny sat next to him.

“It won’t be long now.”

Kyle nodded, eyes focused ahead.

“Think we’ll be okay? I mean, did it work?”

Kyle barely saw the shrug out of the corner of his eye, “We’ll never know. If it does work paradox should begin correction and eliminate us both.”

“Stan and Butters might not get married…” Kyle bemoaned, “My younger self spilled the beans like a jackass. I don’t know how their future is gonna be now.”

Kenny laughed, it had the sprinkles of unnatural that his existence held, “I think they’ll be fine. They have something real, ya know? I don’t think one minor hiccup could stop them from being drawn together.”

Kyle returned with his own hollow laugh, “Wish I could have managed something real before I died in the apocalypse.”

There was the sound of Kenny adjusting himself and he was kicking his legs out over the ledge, hand reaching to hold Kyle’s, “Same. Had my eye on someone though. Wouldn’t have worked.”

Kyle smiled a touch with the melancholy within, “That bites. I had to explain to my younger self all about the futility of unrequited feelings. He bit off my head.”

“You _can_ be a bit intense.”

“Is that a criticism against me or my younger self?”

“Both?” Kenny breathed out into the dissolving air. It was soon. The world was correcting itself.

“Sorry I didn’t notice the entire immortality thing until now.” Kyle figured it was now or never to apologize over that, some memories still haunted the corners of his thoughts.

“It’s fine.” it wasn’t but Kyle wasn’t going to argue, “Cool of you to get all uppity about saving my life though.”

“You’re gonna have to give my younger self credit for that. Dude was _dead set_ against letting you die.”

“You really act like you’re different people,” Kenny pointed out, “Why is that?”

“Different parts of our lives I guess.” Kyle considered it all, everything, and finally looked at the being that was Kenny McCormick. “Who was it you were interested in? Just so I have gossip in the abyss outside of death. Who knows, maybe it’ll come in handy.”

Kenny smiled in that strange way that couldn’t be recognized, “Some silly law professor that wouldn’t give me the time of day. Known him practically my entire life. Great guy, stubborn as an ox and a ridiculously fun dude. I’m kinda hoping that my younger self has a shot though.”

The wave of correction reached them.

At the end of the world, his heart skipped a step.


End file.
